Family
by Taoreta-Hoshi
Summary: Faramir is injured defending Minas Tirith at Denethor's request and while he is torn between giving up his life and fighting to continue living Boromir comes to him and they have a talk about why Faramir cannot die. No slash.


This was originally number 92 on a 100 Theme Challenge I was doing on dA but I eventually gave up with that, but I like some of the stories I did, so I'm going to upload a few.

This drabble sort of mixes the films and the books together and focuses on the family bond between Faramir and Boromir, some nice brotherly love.

* * *

Faramir felt white hot pain pierce his chest as the orcs released their arrows as instructed. Everything seemed to slow down around him and life became slow motion, men were falling from their horses and hitting the ground, and Faramir could see the pain and fear in each man's face as he fell. Horses too hit the ground as arrow pierced their chests, their heads, their hearts. All around him he could see his group falling, dying, he could hear them screaming and yet, somehow, despite the pain, the fatigue that was slowly spreading through his body, Faramir was still on his horse, but he could not see the orcs in front of him anymore, only the white city, standing out like a beacon of hope against the ever darkening sky. Guilt washed over him as his eyes slowly slipped closed and his body relaxed. Had he not spoken of that dream, had he insisted more that it should be him that travelled to Rivendell then Boromir would still be alive, Boromir would not have let the outer defences fall to the enemy, Boromir would not have put the lives of his men, the lives of every man, woman and child still in Minas Tirith in jeopardy for the sake of personal glory…to make the Steward of Gondor, his father, appreciate him, accept him, love him.

Faramir found that it was growing harder and harder to think coherent thoughts. His mind was moving at a sluggish, slow pace that was only slowing at every moment. He could feel his body being jolted around, felt the earth underneath him. He knew that meant he had fallen from the saddle but he was still moving, perhaps, by some miracle, he had become caught in the saddle and the horse was bringing him back home. The world was becoming darker, and Faramir wondered briefly whether this was it, was he to die now as well and leave his father childless? He had wanted to see the King return to the throne, had told Boromir that it would happen, that they would both live to see it. That had already turned out to be untrue, but he himself had wished, rather selfishly he assumed, that he would live to see the King return, to see the Steward removed from power and put in his proper place.

While he had been struggling to have these thoughts run through his mind Faramir realised that the atmosphere around him had changed. He was no longer lying, being dragged along the ground, but standing, his chest bared and the wounds that had been inflicted on him already healed, scars against his pale flesh. All around him there was nothing but darkness and he stood in a pool of light, alone. Fear washed over him, but it seemed to have a muted affect on him, he felt calmer than he ever had before, and other emotions were dwarfed by the intensity of that calm. Where was he? Was this death? They spoke of Mandos' halls as being the resting place at death, was this perhaps where those people who disappointed everybody in life, who never lived up to their true potential, ended up in death?

"Why have you come here Faramir? It is not your time to die yet." A voice spoke, emanating from the darkness around him and Faramir recognised it immediately.

"Boromir? Brother are you here?" He called out. From the shadows in front of him he came, chest bared the same as Faramir's with the shadow of three ugly scars resting there. Faramir knew, having found Boromir's body, that the main wounds had been on his back, but the scars rested on the front of his body too, small and insignificant, but still visible to the eye. Faramir found it hard to tear his eyes away from those scars, tears building in their grey depth as he stared and eventually, for fear of looking weak in front of his brother he looked up and met Boromir's gaze. His brother looked un-impressed, and not at all happy to see him. Faramir moved forward, but as he did so Boromir took a step back.

"Why are you here Faramir?" Boromir asked again.

"I was injured…perhaps I am to die." Faramir replied, his mind racing. Why could he not move closer to his brother? Was Boromir that mad at him for getting injured? Or was it perhaps because Boromir himself was dead but there was a chance that Faramir could live; therefore they were kept apart because their physical states were different? Faramir wished he could run into Boromir's arms and hug him tightly, cry into his chest and tell him how horrible it had become when he had died.

"It is not your time to die," Boromir repeated, "You must live to see the King return to the throne, you said it was one of your greatest wishes."

"I wanted to watch the ceremony with you by my side." Faramir said softly and Boromir smiled.

"I am sorry, little brother that I left you alone in this world." He admitted gently and Faramir could no longer hold back his tears. He fell to his knees and sobbed, wrapping his arms around his chest for a little comfort. Boromir made no move to come and comfort him, though the pained look in his eyes was evidence that he clearly wanted to and just physically could not.

"I miss you Boromir, every day I miss you more and more. If I died I would be reunited with you, I know I would. I am ready to die, ready to be reunited with you." Faramir sobbed. Boromir's face set into an angry expression again, though Faramir had his head bowed and therefore did not see.

"Do not say that Faramir," He snapped. Faramir looked up, shocked. It was a rare occurrence that Boromir would snap at him, raise his voice with him or express disappointment in him. Faramir knew he must have really upset him.

"But-." He began, wanting to justify why he had said that.

"No Faramir. You should never want to die, it is not right. Every fibre in your body should be screaming with a want to live, to see the world again, and to watch the King, Aragorn, return to the throne, to help make Minas Tirith and Middle Earth a prosperous place free from evil." Boromir continued, his voice rising in his anger. Faramir hung his head again.

"What do I have to live for Boromir?" He inquire quietly and Boromir's angry expression faded at the sight of his brother, so dejected and hurt.

"The people of Minas Tirith need a leader who can keep his head when father loses his." Boromir stated. "They looked to me for that when I was alive, now they must look to you."

"No, they look to Gandalf." Faramir said, rather bitterly. He was shocked at his own tone as he loved Gandalf and thought very highly of him, a fact that the Steward did not approve of.

"Gandalf fell did he not?" Boromir asked. Faramir looked at his brother with a simple smile. Of course, news of Gandalf falling to the hands of a Balrog had reached them here as well, but Faramir had been unaware that Boromir had died before realising Gandalf had been reborn.

"He is a White Wizard now, reborn after his fight with the Balrog of Morgoth. He came to Minas Tirith with a hobbit named Pippin, one of the hobbits I believe you were protecting at the time of your…death. The people look to him for leadership, not to me. He has a wiser head than I." Faramir explained.

"I want you to live Faramir. I want you to live so that you can find happiness, start a family of your own and give your child the best loving care that you can." Boromir said after a moment's silence, referring back to the question that Faramir had asked.

Distant voices came to Faramir before he made his reply. Vaguely he heard his father calling "My son is dead!" followed shortly after by Pippin saying "He's alive. He needs medicine my Lord."

"Faramir?" Boromir asked. Faramir looked up at him, not realising he had hung his head when the voices came to him.

"I heard father and Pippin talking about me. I am still alive." He said.

"I know, that is why we cannot touch."

"Do you think I could be a good father, say that I ever do have a child?" Faramir asked quietly, his eyes brimming with tears again. Boromir chuckled.

"I believe you would make an amazing father Faramir. You have a lot of love and devotion and care stored up inside you because you were never able to let it out because nobody ever showed you true affection. If you had a child you could let out those emotions and become a first rate father." He replied. Faramir blushed with pleasure.

"You know Boromir there is something I want to tell you. It's something I've wanted to tell you for a long time now and I think…I think this may be my only chance to tell you." Faramir muttered, embarrassed at what he was going to say.

"What is it little brother?" Boromir inquired, worry settling into his grey eyes again.

"It is something you never really liked hearing much, something you said that sounded like a woman speaking to a man, not anything you'd ever say to your brother…if that makes sense." Faramir continued. Boromir folded his arms but remained silent, waiting for his brother to continue.  
"I love you Boromir." Faramir exclaimed suddenly, loudly, his admittance echoing around them. Boromir blinked, rather taken aback by the suddenness off such words but smiled eventually when it had set in.

"I love you too, Faramir," He said and Faramir felt tears start to run down his cheeks again. Never in his entire life had he wanted to run into Boromir's arms and hug him so tightly. Never had he wanted to hold onto him and never let go, wish that they would be together forever and feel Boromir kiss his hair lightly. And yet, even though he wanted to so badly he could not, for he was alive and Boromir was not.  
"You must promise me Faramir that you will not give up, that you will continue living, for me. I am robbed of life, but I can live through you, if you will let me." Boromir softly murmured.

"I…it will be hard…I cannot say that I will want to live…but if it means so much to you…I cannot say no to such a request." Faramir stuttered over his words, wondering if Boromir would grow angry if he told him how he truly felt.

"I know you feel as though you've lost the only family that you ever had but you will create a family of your own one day, and then you will know what it is like. I want you to experience that Faramir, for both of us." Boromir continued, smiling warmly.

"For both of us," Faramir repeated, returning the smile, slightly sadder than Boromir's.  
"I want to hug you," He said finally.

"I know, but we cannot touch. You are alive still, and I am dead." Boromir replied, anger and sorrow lacing his voice as he did so.

"I think…I think my body is waking up." Faramir gasped. Pain had erupted in his chest and the scars opened and became wounds again, pouring blood down his chest.

"Remember this day little brother," Boromir stated, using the last line Faramir had ever heard from him before his death, "It will be the best memory you ever have." He continued as he turned away. The light seemed to be spreading now, taking over the darkness.

"Boromir!" Faramir screamed, reaching out a hand for his brother, "I don't want to lose you Boromir!"

As he slowly opened his eyes he saw his father lying on burning wood, his eyes fixed on Faramir. He saw the Steward's lips mouth his name before he began screaming, screaming as the fire set into his skin and burned him alive. Faramir closed his eyes and cried, not so much for the death of his only remaining family but because he was living the life that should have been Boromir's.


End file.
